


Experimenting

by S_V



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, play with EM fields, request from a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_V/pseuds/S_V
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the episode “Inside Job”. Smokescreen is in the claws of the Decepticon leader, and Megatron has... questions for him. And he's willing to go to great length to get what he wants.<br/>Written for a friend who requested Megatron and Smokescreen. You know who you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experimenting

Slag it. Smokescreen had really gotten himself into trouble this time. Normally, he wasn't one to concern himself about such things – he'd gotten into problems before, but everything always turned out alright for him. There had been a few close calls, like the time he'd had to hijack a Decepticon escape pod, but he had ended up on Earth and under Optimus Primes' leadership. Things always turned out okay, and he always managed to land on his legs. But this time...

This time, he was actually worried. Not afraid – at least not yet – just slightly worried. But in his defense, things hadn't really turned out like he had expected. Being kidnapped by the super creepy Soundwave was one thing, but actually finding out Alpha Trion had hidden some kind of artifact _inside_ his frame, now that was just weird. And now he found himself chained to some sort of medical table while Megatron was conversing with Knockout in low tones.

Smokescreen didn't even bother trying to listen in on their talk. He had never cared much about the artifacts themselves, as much as kicking 'con tailpipe while protecting them and winning them for Team Prime. Besides, he had tried eavesdropping, but their words hadn't made a lot of sense to him, and he quickly grew bored.

Fighting against his restraints did little good. He had already tried, attempting to be sneaky about it. He didn't want to draw anymore attention to himself – not because he was afraid, of course, but simply because he didn't really feel like being subjected to the scrutinizing gaze from the warlord again. It had made him feel very small, having Megatron himself study him with optics that somehow managed to be cold but at the same time burn with a wild and inextinguishable fire. So yeah, he was just going to keep a low profile for a klik or so while trying to free himself.

If only he had still had his phase shifter, he would have been free and out of here before Megatron would even know what was happening. But of course, Knockout had stolen that from him – typical Decepticon behavior, Smokescreen mused to himself. Just taking something that obviously belonged to him, never mind that Smoke had more or less stolen the artifact, himself. Well, that had only been the first time he used it, so it didn't really count.

Though he had to admit, it had been funny to see the almost childish joy in Knockout's face plate as he played with his new toy. Smokescreen had been about to comment on it, but had decided against it, least he pissed off the medic. He still hadn't forgotten the sadistic grin when Knockout had threatened to cut open his abdominal plating to retrieve the relic. Obviously, it hadn't been an empty threat, and Smokescreen got the distinct impression that blood splatters was one of the few things Knockout didn't mind staining his prized paintjob. He'd rather not awaken that side of the doctor again, he preferred his cables in the inside of his chassis, thank you very much.

As if somehow sensing he was on Smokescreens mind, Knockout turned around, watching him with a catlike smirk playing around his lips plates. Smokescreen glared in return, making his EM field radiate defiance. No way he'd give the 'Cons any sort of satisfaction, and he would certainly not show that the situation he was in rather unsettled him.

“So, my liege...” Knockout began, sauntering back to Smokescreen's side “What should we do with the Autobot? Perhaps I should eviscerate him, just to make sure he isn't hiding any more surprises?” he suggested. Smokescreen honestly had no idea what _“eviscerate”_ meant, but from the way Knockout smirked while he purred the word, it couldn't be a good thing. Sending him a hard glare, he pulled at the cuffs keeping him on the table, just to make a point and show the doctor he hadn't given in.

“That was the only thing I was packing doc, and I didn't even know about it. Keep your servos from my insides, you weird sexual deviant.” he shot back, grinning victoriously when Knockout looked genuinely surprised at his fast comeback. Blinking once, the medic quickly pulled himself together, returning Smokescreen's grin with a smooth curve of his own lip plates.

“Oh? I'm surprised you even know a word like ' _deviant_ ', where did you pick that up? Maybe I _should_ use my new toy on you... it's so much fun, wouldn't you say? And a fascinating piece of engineering, as well. Just think of the possibilities it holds!” he looked like he was about to throw himself into a long rant about his newly stolen phase shifter, but he never got that far. Smokescreen hated admitting it, but he was actually grateful when Megatron placed a large servo on his medic's dainty shoulder, shaking his head silently at him. Knockout shot him a look, and the captured Autobot caught the mischievous glint in his optics before he had time to hide it. The doctor had been considering using his new toy to let his lord's hand pass through him, Smokescreen realized, smiling on the inside. Then he immediately started worrying about why he was so good at reading what was going on inside Knockout's mind.

“Now is not the time, Knockout.” Megatron said, his low voice rumbling and easily filling the room despite the casual volume he kept it in. “Leave us.” It hadn't been formulated as a direct order, but still, it was impossible to oppose him. Even Smokescreen could feel the rough power and authority in the other's words, and he had to fight the urge to gulp and shift his weight. But honestly, who wouldn't be intimidated? It had been bad enough when Megatron had kept back and left Smokescreen in Knockout's more than capable servos. But now, the warlord himself took over, and Smokescreen had no doubts he was about to be tortured and killed horribly. He knew what had happened to Bumblebee, and he had no wishes of ending up like his fellow Autobot. On the other hand, he absolutely refused to give Megatron anything he wanted.

“Yes my liege, of course. Do you want me to take the latest relics to the vault?” Knockout gave a small bow, somehow managing to make even the tiny movement elegant. Megatron didn't even spare him a glance, his red optics focused on Smokescreen with an intensity that honestly made the prisoner more than a little nervous. Giving a cold grin, revealing sharp denta, Megatron slowly shook his helmet.

“No. You may keep the phase shifter... for now. And I think I’ll keep this here, I have some... questions about it I would like to ask the rookie.” He rumbled, speaking with a true leaders confidence that everyone would be paying attention so he could afford taking his time to choose his words. Knockout visibly perked, fingers unconsciously brushing the relic firmly secured around his wrist as he gave another bow, deeper this time.

“Thank you very much, my lord. I’ll leave you two to it, then – enjoy!” and with that light quip, he left, hips swaying as he practically pranced out, radiating satisfaction by having been granted a new toy. Smokescreen followed his retreating form until the door closed behind him, then slowly turned his attention to Megatron. The warlord was busy examining the relic between his claws, but Smokescreen knew it was probably just a sham – he could feel the heavy weight of Megatron's attention resting on him. Cursing in his processor, he decided to keep his intake shut, not wanting to give in to Megatron's games and give him the satisfaction of being the one breaking the silence.

His decision lasted for just under a minute.

“So, this is your evil plan – to bore me to death or something? Because if that's it, it's working, you know.” Smokescreen could have bit off his own glossa for actually provoking the warlord like this. Instead, he continued his tirade. “You can save yourself the trouble of questioning me. I wasn't carrying anything else with me than that thing, and I don't even know what it is. Besides, I’m new, so I can't tell you any of the Autobots' secrets. Too bad, Legatron, but I’m useless to you.” he made an attempt at shrugging, but being chained down like this made the gesture look vulnerable instead of defiant. Right, that wasn't what he wanted – new plan. Giving up on shrugging or otherwise moving, he instead returned his gaze to Megatron. The warlord smirked at him, raising an optic ridge.

“Useless? Oh, I wouldn't say that, little rookie.” he said, voice calm and yet somehow managing to remind Smokescreen of a low growl. Megatron spoke with the same unidentifiable authority as Optimus, his voice being something you automatically listened to. It carried well, filling out the room with it's rich tones, and even though he didn't want to, Smokescreen found himself listening attentively. It was simply the type of voice you couldn't _not_ listen to, and it's slightly rasping quality somehow ensured that each and every spoken word registered in your processor. Smokescreen listened to him closely, then gave a dry snort.

“My name's Smokescreen, Buckethead. And I’m not a rookie, I was an Elite Guard!” he protested, only realizing his mistake when Megatron chuckled, stepping closer to his side and placing the relic on a nearby table.

“Oh, is that so? An Elite Guard, you say... tell me, _Smokescreen_ , where did you work? What were you guarding?” he asked, Smokescreen widening his optics before decidedly shutting his intake, sending Megatron an angry glare. No way he was going to reveal anything else, Megatron could go frag himself for all he cared. The warlord simply looked amused with him, slowly circling the table he was chained to. Okay, now that was unsettling – one thing was being completely helpless and in a room with Megatron, another thing was being unable to see aforementioned mech. For a moment, Smokescreen struggled to turn his head and follow the ex-gladiator with his optics. Then he realized that was probably exactly what Megatron wanted, and forced himself to lay back against the table and look straight ahead. He wasn't going to buy into Megatron's scare tactics.

“Never mind that question, I can guess what you were supposed to be guarding, your... _cargo_ considered.” Megatron moved into Smokescreen's field of vision again, completing the circle and picking up the relic, examining it. Even though he was no longer subject to the warlords attention, Smokescreen still felt the others presence in the room like a heavy cloud, settling over his spark like a great weight and pressing down. Once more, he looked around the room, trying to come up with a plan, some way to get himself out of this mess before it was too late. He just needed to think of something, to come up with a plan...

He never got that far, Megatron speaking up again and interrupting his thoughts, demanding his attention with his voice alone. Smokescreen didn't really like that, didn't like the easy way the leader of his enemies could command his mind like that. But when a mech like Megatron spoke, it was simply impossible to ignore him.

“I do have some questions about this, little rookie. I would advice you to answer them. Firstly, I want to know what this relic is. What does it do? I suppose you need all four of them to activate them, but what is their purpose? Moreover...” the warlord interrupted himself with a grin that promised nothing good for Smokescreen “I want to know how this ended up inside of you like that.” he finished, smirking. Smokescreen sent him a glare, making a point of tugging in his right arm, as if the only thing keeping him from tearing out the others spark were his chains. It certainly wasn't the fact that Megatron could hand him his aft on a silver platter with one claw behind his back, even if Smokescreen hadn't been tied down like this.

“I told you, I don't know – and even if I did, I'd never tell you, Legatron. I had no idea I was packing that thing, or that my mugshot had been encoded into the Iacon database like that. If I had known, don't you think I'd have locked myself into the Autobots' vault or something?” he asked, his processor telling him to quit being snarky towards Megatron when he was in such a compromising situation. He kindly told it to shut the frag up and go back to thinking up an escape plan, then he'd do the talking. Much to his surprise, Megatron chuckled again – apparently, the victory and the prospect of getting to torture an Autobot had cheered him up greatly. Sick piece of scrap.

“I suppose your claims does make sense... but still, I do not trust the word of an Autobot.” Megatron leaned a little towards him, raising the relic. “How did this end up inside you, rookie? Do tell.” Smokescreen just shrugged again, glaring at Megatron and not bothering to give him a verbal response. He might as well get used to being a mute like Bee... or maybe Megatron would go for another of his senses. Blinding him, tearing through his audios, dismember him – the possibilities were endless, and Smokescreen had to fight to repress a shudder at the thought. Megatron caught it despite his efforts to hide it, and sent him a smirk.

“You know, little rookie, this really was placed a rather... let's call it an unexpected place. I’m finding it hard to believe you don't have any recollection of how it came to become your burden to bear. It _is_ rather big.” He stated, using a calm voice as he studied the relic between his servos, sounding almost smug. Smokescreen rolled his optics at him, guessing what the warlord was hinting at: that Smokescreen was irresponsible and young. Primus knew he had already heard slag about that from Arcee, so if Megatron thought he'd be able to get under Smokescreen's plating with an approach like that, he'd have to try harder.

“Yeah yeah, I’ve heard the whole rant about being young and inattentive before, that speech isn't going to work on me. It doesn't even qualify as a nice try. Too bad Buckethead, I’m not taking the bait.” he snorted, keeping his voice gruff and looking away from Megatron to tell him just _how_ unimpressed he was with the Decepticon's attempt at getting into his helmet. But honestly, that had almost been anti climatic. 'Cons were known for deceiving and manipulating, so Smokescreen had prepared himself for the worst. Instead, he got this – Megatron pulling an Arcee on him, telling him he was irresponsible. What the frag? He was almost disappointed.

At least, he was until Megatron started laughing at him. This time, it wasn't a chuckle but a full out grin, rasping in his throat and almost making Smokescreens chassis vibrate. _What?_ Sending the mirthful warlord a confused look, Smokescreen frowned. It wasn't that he minded people laughing at him, he was used to that, but mostly, they did so because he clowned around. Point was, he usually _knew_ why he amused others. This time, however, he had no idea why Megatron was laughing, and it unsettled him. Shifting his weight a little, he scowled up at the ex-gladiator.

“What? What's your problem? Has that dark energon gotten to your processor or something?” he demanded, trying and failing to hide his insecurity. Megatron just continued roaring with laughter, slowly calming enough to send Smokescreen a sharp grin, revealing the pointed dentas normally hidden behind scarred lip plates. Instead of answering, he just leaned closer to Smokescreen, locking their gazes as he flared his EM field.

The Autobot couldn't help himself: he gasped at the unexpected action, optics widening. Earlier, the warlord had been controlling his field, drawing it in around his body and keeping a tight rein on it. Now, he let go, allowing it to fill the room – and to Smokescreen, it felt like it filled him, as well. He felt like he was drowning, Megatron's field rich and powerful, feeling tangible in the air around him. It thrummed against Smokescreens chassis, surrounding and engulfing him, mixing with his own field and completely dominating it. He could feel the raw and incredible power of the leader of the Decepticons, and mingling with that, a feeling of something dark and completely otherworldly, yet somehow still undeniably a part of the warlord hovering at his side. The pure force of Megatron's field was almost like a physical presence all around Smokescreen, permeating him and making his own EM field vibrate.

Venting hard, Smokescreen opened his intake slightly, feeling himself completely imbued by the sheer power of the other's presence, the field wrapping itself around him and consuming him. He had no idea if he was horrified or intrigued by what was happening as he drowned in Megatron's field, he just knew that the feeling wasn't entire unpleasant. It was a pure, raw power, surging through him and setting his own field thrumming in response, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to resist or fight it. Even if there had been, Smokescreen wasn't sure he would have done so – he couldn't even gather his thoughts enough to try to make sense of what was going on, much less try to figure out a way to make it stop. There was nothing to do but surrender himself to the sensation.

As abruptly as he had flared it, Megatron drew his field back in, leaving Smokescreen feeling empty, weak to his knee joints, and terribly confused.

“What the slag was that about?!” Smokescreen knew that he should probably have kept quiet, that his reaction to feeling the others EM field had probably already revealed too much. But then again, silence had never been his style. Glaring up at the smirking warlord, he got his vents under control, already beginning the first stages of denying this had ever happened. Megatron appeared amused by his question, cocking his head a bit and raising an optic ridge.

“Don't tell me you didn't take the chance to search my field for answers...?” he rumbled, his tone making it obvious he already knew the answer to his question. “A rookie mistake. I myself got quite a lot from this little brush.” he smirked again, and Smokescreen narrowed his optics at him. It was clear that Megatron was well aware of just how powerful his own field was, and knew that Smokescreen had been helpless to resist it. Still, the EM field gave a lot away – feelings, the state of mind, even hints to the thoughts running through the processor. Smokescreen knew he should have done what Megatron suggested, that he should have taken advantage of this to try to figure out the warlords plans. But the action had taken him entirely by surprise, the strength of Megatron's field consuming him completely, leaving him helpless. The idea that he should have been able to collect his thoughts was far fetched, and actually being able to retaliate? Impossible.

“For example, I learned that your confusion is genuine – you really didn't know about being a... carrier, for this. Despite the rather conspicuous location it had inside of you.” Megatron continued, sounding smug as he straightened a bit, holding up the relic. Making an effort, Smokescreen bit back a quick response, instead following the ex-gladiator with his optics as this started pacing again. He reminded Smokescreen of one of those organic animals called sharks, circling their prey. The notion that he himself was Megatron's prey didn't exactly make him feel at ease.

“Yeah, big woop, I already told you so. No need to go all crazy with the EM field for that.” He grumbled, hoping he didn't sound like a petulant sparkling. But seriously, what was even with that? Megatron was known for torturing the truth out of his victims, not... well, doing whatever this had been. It hardly counted as torture, even though Smokescreen had to admit, he did feel somewhat violated by Megatron apparently dragging data from his own EM field like that. Still, it hadn't been what he had expected, and he was growing concerned that this was all somehow part of an elaborate trap set by the Decepticon leader, and that he was walking straight into it.

“Maybe not... but it was enjoyable.” Megatron said, voice crisp as if he was merely stating a fact, and Smokescreen almost gave himself a whiplash trying to turn his helmet and stare at the warlord behind him. Had Megatron, _Megatron_ out of all mechs, just said he had done that... just because it was fun? Chuckling at Smokescreen's reaction, Megatron stepped closer to the table, keeping just out of his field of vision on purpose.

“And if I’m not mistaken, you quite liked the rush of power, as well.” Feeling his optics widen, Smokescreen tensed. Was that was this was about? Some... weird sort of attempt to talk him into becoming a 'Con? Why the scrap would Megatron do that, he had _never_ done so earlier. He was known for being ruthless towards Autobots, for offlining them without second thought. Why would he suddenly change his mind about Smokescreen? Was it because he hoped that Smokescreen would know about more relics, since he had been the Elite Guard in charge of Alpha Trion? But if that was the case, he could just make a cortical patch and take the information he wanted from Smokescreen's processor, there was no reason for him to act like this.

“What, are you trying to get me to join you? No way, forget about that. I’m an Autobot, and that'll never change, so give it up Buckethead.” Well, planning and thinking had never been Smokescreens strong side – he preferred getting straight to the point. So now, he just rolled his optics, huffing through his vents to show his contempt for the whole idea. Becoming a 'Con and betraying his friends, everything his stood for, _Optimus_? There was absolutely no way he was going to do that, and he was actually kind of insulted that Megatron would even suggest it.

His words made Megatron chuckle again, slowly completing another circle and coming to stand in front of Smokescreen once more. The Autobot was honestly unsettled by the amusement the other seemed to find in his every action, and it only served to strengthen the feeling that he was slowly but surely being lured into a trap. He didn't like it. Narrowing his optics at Megatron, he flared his own field defiantly, raising his chin a bit. There was no way he was going to give in, or let some scare tactic work on him. Megatron just sent him a crooked smile.

“You misunderstand me, rookie. That wasn't what I meant at all.” he rumbled, leaning a bit over Smokescreen and placing one large servo on his thigh, claws briefly scraping over his biolights. Smokescreen stiffened, staring up at the large silver mech in surprise. Slowly, determination was replaced by confusion, and then understanding. Freezing, Smokescreen felt his optics widen.

“Wha- so that was what all that pervy talk about the relic being in a suggestive place was about? You thought that I-? On purpose? Is that even _possible?!_ ” The notion was enough to make Smokescreen splutter and wince. That relic looked huge, and angular, and – ow. Ow, ow _ow._ Sending the thing in Megatron's hand a slightly horrified look, he felt himself go a bit pale, energon draining from his faceplate. How could the ex-gladiator even have gotten that idea in the first place? Just... no. No. _Ow._

Apparently, Megatron could guess what was going through his processor, because he chuckled again, putting the relic away on a nearby tray.

“Relax little rookie, you're all tensed up.” he instructed, and only then did Smokescreen realize that the warlord's huge servo was still resting on his leg. The knowledge that Megatron had torn enemies apart with nothing but those hands now touching him registered in his processor, and he couldn't stop a tiny shiver from traveling along his backstrut. The Decepticon leader registered it despite his attempts to hide it, and grinned, running the pointed tip of his thumb along an edge in his armor with a light scrape. Smokescreen jerked, momentarily forgetting about being chained down as he tried pulling away.

“Hey, cut that out!” he protested, which earned him nothing more than a slight squeeze as Megatron tightened his grip. “Seriously, I mean it, let go! What's with you Legatron, are you getting senile or something?!” he asked, trying to squirm away to no avail. Stupid cuffs. Megatron smiled at him, slowly moving his hand down towards Smokescreen's knee joint. Oh slag. Smokescreen stared at him, convinced that the warlord would crush his knee, and trying to mentally prepare himself for the pain sure to come. Instead, he felt a sharp jolt of tingling warmth, and he gasped soundlessly. Megatron had slipped his fingertips behind his knee, easily accessing the sensitive wiring and stroking it.

Smokescreen shot him a sour look, twisting his legs away the best he could. Since his ankles were tied down and spread, the best he could do was wiggle about, moving his hips in an attempt to create as much leverage as possible, but that would have to do for now. The important thing was to show Megatron that he wasn't afraid of him.

He guessed this was some sort of scare tactic, Megatron touching sensitive places in order to demonstrate to Smokescreen how easily he could hurt him. Well too bad. Smokescreen wouldn't be threatened, and he pushed all uncertainty and fear from his gaze as he narrowed his optics at Megatron. Apparently, that served nothing but to amuse the warlord further, and he gave a sharp smile, venting a laugh.

“Is it possible, you ask? It seems we'll have to investigate that for ourselves...” Megatron was apparently ignoring the insults thrown at him, instead returning to the earlier subject. Smokescreen really wished he hadn't. He didn't like that Megatron was hinting at Smokescreen actually having had the relic up his... nope. He couldn't even think about that, and he would really like for the ex-gladiator to stop talking about it. But Megatron seemed to have other plans.

Slowly sliding his servo back up Smokescreens leg, he leaned over him, bringing his other hand to lock Smokescreen's hips in place before the Autobot even had time to consider squirming. With the hand holding him down, Megatron dug beneath armor to touch protometal in teasing caresses, keeping his optics on Smokescreen all the while. The other servo finished it's journey, coming to a rest above Smokescreens interface array and tapping gently down at the panel twice.

“Open up, little rookie.” He ordered in a voice that could have been a purr, but sounded more like a growl when it was coming from him. Smokescreen widened his optics even further, for a few moments unable to speak. That he restarted his vocalizer, giving a violent jerk at the same time. Because honestly, _what the slag?!?_

“Wha- just _what_ do you think you're doing?! Megaperv! You're crazy if you are actually considering stuffing that relic into me, what the scrap is your deal?! Stop touching me!” He writhed, yelling angrily and hoping the volume of his voice would hide his growing fear. No such luck: the warlord obviously noticed that he was afraid, judging from the way his scarred lip plates curled into a cruel smirk.

“No.” he simply answered, leaning further over Smokescreen “Now open your panel before I simply tear it off”. His next actions took the breath away from the Autobot, both literally and figuratively speaking. With his servos, he started rubbing small circles where he was touching, the touch surprisingly experienced, catching Smokescreen off guard. The fingers massaging his closed panel and his sensitive protoform caused a gasp to slip from his lips before he could regain his self control. Maybe he would have made some other sort of noise, had he not effectively been silenced.

Megatron sealed their mouths together, catching Smokescreen by surprise and easily wrestling the control of the kiss from him. And damn, was he a good kisser - Smokescreen barely had time to realize what was happening, that _it was Megatron's glossa he could feel against his own,_ before Megatron took things a step further. Once more, the warlord flared his EM field, and once more, the raw power in it washed over Smokescreen, leaving him with the feeling of drowning in it. This time however, he felt Megatron's will behind the action, the burning _want,_ and it made the experience even more intense. It seemed impossible to resist, like the only thing he could do was to give in... Megatron broke the kiss the nanoklik a low hiss indicated Smokescreen had obeyed him, leaning away and reining in his field once more.

“Good little rookie... if you keep doing as you're told, things will be much easier for you.” he commented, voice low and rumbling with mirth in his chest, and Smokescreen felt terrified when he realized he'd actually slid his valve panel aside under Megatron's insisting digits. Before he had time to close it, Megatron's claws were there, stopping it and brushing the rim of his valve, making him give a high pitched sound of fear.

“S-stop! Don't even think about it, what the frag do you think you're doing?! Don't touch me!” He protested, trying to contain the growing horror in his tanks. But it was hard, especially with the smile Megatron sent him.

“I told you, we'd have to figure out the answer for ourselves... Don't worry, I do not wish to dirty my newest relic, it'll stay on the tray. But I’m a curious mech, young rookie, so you'll have to indulge me. Not like you have much of a choice in the matter, but please, try to relax. My fingertips are clawed, and I don't want to damage anything sensitive.” He smirked, using his free servo to keep Smokescreen still. Not that he had to – his words had done the job nicely. Freezing under his touch, Smokescreen's vents picked up, his optics wavering. Surely Megatron wouldn't... would he? Was he actually going to...? No way, he couldn't mean to-! His thoughts were interrupted when Megatron slowly and deliberately circled his valve, and he gave a squeak.

“N-no! Stop, cut it out! What the frag, _stop!_ ” Starting to struggle once more, he promptly forgot about Megatron's warning, instead writhing and staring at him with horrified optics. Megatron rumbled, shushing him as he tightened his hold on his hips, leaning closer. Smokescreen couldn't do anything, halfway expecting the warlord to break into laughter and claim it had all been some odd joke. He didn't. Instead, he sent Smokescreen a dangerous grin, revealing his pointed denta in a smile that was everything but comforting.

“I told you to be still, little rookie. Do you _want_ to get hurt?” He asked, obviously enjoying watching Smokescreen panic and flail. Smokescreen promptly shook his helmet, and Megatron's smirk grew. “Then lie back and relax, or my hand might slip... and you really don't want that, do you?”

Again, Smokescreen shook his head, giving a low whimpering sound as he tried forcing his frame to stop fighting. He... honestly had no idea what to do. But Megatron said he just wanted to examine him, right? That was all that was going to happen, nothing more. Just an examination. Right? Venting quickly, he kept his optics locked on Megatron, trying to see each and every tiny movement he made. The ex-gladiator just smirked at him, moving the servo keeping his hips in place a bit.

“That's a good little Autobot... I’m not going to hurt you, just relax. And enjoy this.” Smokescreen gasped when Megatron slowly pressed his finger against his valve, the sound turning into a shaking whine when the first joint slipped into him. It didn't exactly hurt, but it was far from nice, the feeling of the foreign object scraping over his sensitive nodes uncomfortable. He gave another low sound of protest, not thinking as he clamped down on the digit. Megatron clicked his glossa, leaning over him and running his free servo along his side, teasing seams and edges of his armor an a way that almost seemed soothing. Like he truly wanted him to relax.

“Stop that rookie... I told you, you'll just end up hurt. Don't tense up.” He instructed, low voice rumbling deep in his chassis as he pressed a hot kiss against Smokescreen's chest. Smokescreen shook his helmet, closing his optics before slowly forcing himself to relax. Megatron gave an approving growl when the inner walls around his digit stopped clamping down around it.

“Good Autobot. If you actually started enjoying this, it would be much easier. But I suppose that'll have to come later, hm? For now, you'll be needing a little help.” Smokescreen honestly had no idea what Megatron was going on about now, he just felt a wave of relief wash over him when the claw was removed from his valve. Releasing a relieved vent, he looked up at the warlord – then paled when he was met with an unsettling smirk. That... couldn't be good. He had thought it was over...?

Leaning over him, acting as if he was about to kiss him again, Megatron gave a deep rumble, obviously enjoying it when Smokescreen automatically attempted to pull away. Last minute, he placed two claws over the Autobot's intake, parting his lips slightly with the tips.

“Suck.” The order was gruff, said in a voice that obviously wouldn't tolerate anything but obedience. Smokescreen shot him a look filled with equal parts horror and confusion before opening his mouth to give some sort of snappy comeback. That had been a mistake. As soon as he unclenched his jaw, Megatron slipped the digits into his intake, resting the tips threateningly against his glossa.

“I said: suck. And don't even think about biting down, or I will do something _very_ painful to you. You're not overly smart, little rookie, but I'm sure even _you_ can figure out what's in your best interest.” The worst part was that he didn't even look like he'd mind it if Smokescreen bit him. On the contrary, there was a heat in his optics, one which Smokescreen could only imagine came from a burning desire to hurt or maim him.

Trying to swallow around the digits, he suppressed a shudder, a soft sound leaving his vocalizer. Ignoring the way Megatron smirked when he heard, Smokescreen instead tried moving his head a bit before giving the fingers in his mouth a tentative lick. The warlord nodded in approval, lip plates pulling into a cruel smirk, and Smokescreen had to close his optics once more, otherwise he was sure he'd end up biting down just to spite the ex-gladiator, consequences be damned. It wasn't as much fear of the punishment that stopped him, but something which had just occurred to him: dark energon.

The blood of Unicron was running through Megatron's circuits. Smokescreen had sensed it in his EM field, that ancient and dark force which seemed to be in perfect sync with Megatron's own, raw power. He had no idea how Megatron's blood would affect him, but he had heard dark energon drained 'Bots and 'Cons alike. And he needed to stay sharp if he were to have any hope of getting out of this situation.

Meaning he'd have to cooperate.

Slowly relaxing his tense jaw, he ran his glossa along the underside of the talons, repressing a shiver as he felt the slightly cooler metal warm up from the heat in his intake. Bobbing his helmet a bit, he tried his best to do as the other had ordered, and sucked experimentally on the digits. Megatron gave a deep rumble, obviously appreciating it, and Smokescreen once more had to fight himself to keep from biting down and refusing to let go. He didn't even know why Megatron wanted him to do this. It was probably to humiliate him – like forcing him to kiss his pedes. Smokescreen would be sure to get him back for this somehow.

But first he'd have to get out of this situation. Which meant playing nice for the time being. Using his glossa to part the claws, he licked between them, sucking once more as he slowly looked up at Megatron again. Damn it all, he could feel energon burn in his cheeks, and knew he was blushing slightly. This was just _weird_ \- he hoped it would end soon. And apparently, it did. Giving a low growl, Megatron removed his talons, a few strands of liquid briefly connecting them before he crushed his own mouth against Smokescreen's.

That wasn't what the Autobot had expected, and the warlord was quick to take advantage of his surprised gasp to gain access to his mouth. Letting out a muffled whimper, Smokescreen attempted to turn his helmet and break the kiss. He had understood from the odd hints dropped that Megatron wanted to examine him, but this... this wasn't an examination.

Smokescreen was about to throw all caution to the wind and simply bite the glossa invading his mouth when he felt those claws return to his valve. He just had time to wonder why he hadn't closed his panel; seriously _what was wrong with him why hadn't he closed it_ , and then Megatron once more slid the first joint of a claw into him. Only this time, his fingers were coated with Smokescreen's own oral fluids, making the entrance smooth and sending a jolt through the young 'Bot. _Oh_. So that was why he had wanted him to suck his talons...

Then Megatron pressed upwards, and Smokescreen forgot about being careful, throwing his helmet back and giving a sharp gasp. The tip of the claw currently pressing and rubbing against his inner walls felt absolutely sinful. Smokescreen wasn't a virgin, he'd had his seal broken, but still, this stole his breath away, and he blushed when he felt his temperature begin to rise. What was wrong with him?! It was Megatron, _the Dark Lord_ , who was touching him! And only as part of some really messed up examination!

That didn't stop it from feeling extremely pleasurable, and he bit his lip, trying to regain his composure. It didn't help when Megatron gave a throaty chuckle before kissing the neck cables Smokescreen had foolishly exposed when he broke the kiss and leaned his head back. Another gasp slipped from Smokescreen's lips when the warlord nibbled along a wire, sharp denta surprisingly careful.

“I told you to relax, rookie.” Megatron's deep voice tore him from whatever paralyzed state he had been in, and he realized his frame had frozen completely in shock. Hissing out a curse, he attempted to squirm. The warlord had obviously been anticipating this, and was quick to clamp his other servo down on Smokescreen's hip once more, keeping him in place. Why had he even said anything when it was obvious Smokescreen would start fighting as soon as he got over his initial surprise? Then it hit him: Megatron _wanted_ him to fight. He enjoyed watching the Autobot beneath him writhe.

The moment his optics widened in understanding, Megatron chuckled, leaning in to plant a kiss of mock affection upon his lip plates. Ever so slowly, he pushed his claw further into Smokescreen, scraping it against his interior calipers in a touch skirting the border of painfulness without ever crossing that line. Decidedly clenching his denta, Smokescreen shot him a furious look, refusing to make any kind of sound. His silence lasted until Megatron once more bit down on his neck.

“C-cut that out! What the slag is wrong with you?! Just get this sick examination of yours over with, would you? There's no need to be nibbling at me like some toothless old scraplet!” He had expected Megatron to be enraged by his words, to hit him or otherwise punish him. What he hadn't counted on was for the warlord to actually laugh, the sound deep and rich as it rumbled in his chest. Blinking in obvious confusion now, Smokescreen looked up as Megatron flashed him a toothy grin.

“Ah, little rookie, you're not very bright at all, are you? You really don't see what's right in front of you. Well then, should I take mercy on you...?” He pretended to be thinking it over, but his optics were locked on his prisoner, shining with obvious mirth. “Let me give you a hint.”

Smokescreen frowned, then wriggled in surprise when Megatron once more kissed him. This time, he was prepared though, and kept his mouth shut tightly. Apparently, that didn't bother Megatron at all, and he licked over the other's lip plates before biting the lower one, sharp denta only a breath away from drawing energon. Giving a warning snarl in the back of his vocalizer, Smokescreen attempted to turn his helmet and get away from the unwanted contact. Seriously, what was even with that? He got that the warlord was trying to do some weird experiment or something on him, and he was thankful the ex-gladiator wasn't moving his servos right now. But kissing had no place in such an examination.

He froze when it finally occurred to him, optics widening in horror and jaw going slack. Kissing _had_ no place in this – so what if this wasn't what he had thought it was? What if...? Their current situation hit him hard, and he sent Megatron a terrified look. He was lying bound on a medical berth, and the warlord was hovering over him, touching his most sensitive areas and _kissing_ him. This wasn't an examination. This was...

“Y-you can't be s-serious... You c-can't do that!” His voice sounded absolutely petrified, making Megatron give a slightly hoarse chuckle and lean further over him, pressing their chests together so Smokescreen could feel the rumble deep within his chassis. For a few kliks, Smokescreen lost his voice completely and couldn't do anything but stare up at the warlord in horror.

“Finally get it, do you? I can, and I will... Now relax. If you behave, I'll make sure you enjoy yourself, as well.” He sent Smokescreen a smirk, not giving the Autobot time to respond before pressing that single claw against a cluster of nodes. Smokescreen had no idea when the warlord had even located those, he was pretty sure he'd remember if the other had touched them earlier, because the jolt they sent through him was _very_ tangible. Intake falling open, a whimpering little moan left him before he could stop it, making him stiffen and Megatron give a low laugh.

“Like that? How responsive you are... I'll have my fun with you.” Smokescreen didn't have time to say anything before Megatron moved again, and he got the feeling the warlord knew that, knew exactly what he was doing, that each of his touches were calculated to push Smokescreen further. Curling his finger just a bit, Megatron slowly pulled it out, grazing along his inner walls and ghosting over sensory nodes, before thrusting it back in, going just a bit deeper this time. His other servo was still firmly securing Smokescreen's hips in place, but now, he once more slipped the tips of his claws beneath the armoring there, locating and stroking sensitive wires.

“N-no... stop! Stop, you can't- just stop! You c-can't do this, it's not- ah!” Vents hitching, he interrupted himself with a mixture between a scared squeak and a crisp moan. Then he grit his denta and sent Megatron a furious look, giving a wordless snarl. He was an Autobot, not some pleasurebot! There was no way he'd give in like this!

Apparently sensing this, Megatron just sent him a challenging grin, leaning closer to him before once more flaring his EM field. If Smokescreen had thought it had been overwhelming before, it was practically devastating now. A small part of his processor had time to realize that earlier, Megatron had still held a bit back. Then the ability to think straight completely left him, and he felt himself get consumed by the sheer force of Megatron's field.

The incredible power felt like it was swallowing him up, like he was drowning in it, the sensation far from unpleasant. It felt... dangerous. Like a raw force was washing through him, something he knew was dark, yet it lit up ever sensory circuit in him. And this time, Megatron allowed him a glimpse of his feelings, sending a wave of lust through where their fields mingled, and Smokescreen couldn't hold back a moan as it swept over him. Writhing as an electrical charge built between their chests, making the air crackle and only adding to the pleasure, he threw his head back with a whine. Megatron was quick to exploit this, leaning down to brush his lip plates over the exposed neck cables, and Smokescreen shuddered, hating how much power such a simple touch could have over him.

“That's right... Enjoy it. I can be gentle should I want to. And you're so eager for this... Already getting wet. You want this, little rookie.” Megatron rumbled, controlling his field so it was no longer devouring Smokescreen, the power pushing him without driving him over the edge and allowing him to think for himself again. And he was horrified to discover that Megatron was right, that his cooling fans had turned on without his knowing, and that lubricant was beginning to slowly form in his valve.

“I don't... I don't want this, stop it! I... p-please don't.” He didn't want to plead, but he could feel his temperature rising, his own frame feeling like it was betraying him, his fear slowly being replaced by a burning need. He didn't want this, and he needed Megatron to stop, to stop _now,_ or he was unsure about what might happen. He really didn't want to find out. Biting into his neck, leaving a telltale mark behind, Megatron chuckled and shook his helmet.

“Why would I stop when you're responding so beautifully to me? Save the begging for later, there will be a time for that.” As if to underline his words, he once more thrust that single claw into Smokescreen, ignoring the careful pace he had set earlier and instead pushing as far as it would go. He smirked when this made his prisoner gasp and thrash beneath him, easily holding his hips still. Well, if he had liked _that_... Smokescreen widened his optics when Megatron changed the angle of his servo so the heel of his hand rubbed against his exterior node, the talon inside of him curling slightly and seeking out node clusters to rub over.

When Smokescreen gave a loud moan, almost a scream, Megatron swallowed it, sealing their intakes together once again. Slipping his glossa into Smokescreens mouth, he slowly pulled a bit out, then thrust back in, sending a surge over his field at the same time. The Autobot was helpless to do anything but moan, and Megatron gave a triumphant rumble when he hesitantly began returning the kiss.

“Yes...” he broke the kiss to utter that single word, and the way he dragged it out sent a violent shiver through Smokescreen's frame. Looking up at the warlord, a dazed expression on his face plate, Smokescreen panted before weakly shaking his helmet in response.

“No...” His own word was dragged out as well, but not for the same reasons and Megatron's had been. Megatron had growled it almost possessively, obviously pleased with the situation. Smokescreen himself whimpered it, the pleasure which was clouding his processor keeping out the fear that would otherwise have coated his voice. _No._ He didn't want this, this was wrong. But it felt oh so right, and he wasn't able to hold back a gasp when Megatron dragged his finger from him painfully slow, then used the tip to circle his valve teasingly. Walls clasping down on nothing, Smokescreen's hips moved on their own volition, pressing towards his touch and making the Decepticon leader laugh.

“Yes. See how eager you are? You love this, don't you, little rookie?” Adding another digit, he pushed back into Smokescreen, making him gasp and squirm, though he was no longer sure if he was trying to escape or press closer for more of that wonderful sensation. Setting a tormentingly slow pace, pulling his fingers out before plunging them just that tiny bit deeper next time, Megatron gave a deep rumble, lavishing another kiss over his exposed neck.

Biting down on his lower lip, Smokescreen turned his helmet, telling himself it was to avoid another kiss to his intake, though he knew it was really his treacherous frame baring more of his throat to that skilled mouth. Where had Megatron even learned to use his intake like that? He would have wondered about it if it wasn't for the fact that he was too busy enjoying the way those sharp denta nibbled along cabling, glossa occasionally sweeping out to trace a seam in his thinner armor. Giving a whine, he bit harder, willing himself to stay silent – he wouldn't surrender completely, he _couldn't_.

His determination lasted until Megatron moved his servo from where it was pinning his hips in place, and instead slid it up his side.

“A-ah! Nnh, n-no... Hah, don't...” He wasn't even sure if he was trying to tell Megatron ' _don't do it'_ or ' _don't stop_ ', he just knew that the way those large claws slid beneath his armor felt absolutely sinful. Teasing along his transformation seams, Megatron returned his attention to his neck once more, and Smokescreen whimpered at the touches to his frame. He was helpless to stop himself from lifting his plating a bit to allow the warlord easier access, and he blushed when Megatron gave a throaty laugh at his willingness. He didn't regret it for one klik when those claws slid in to pluck at sensitive wires, though.

Closing his optics, he moaned, arching his back and pushing back down against those invading digits now that his hips were no longer being held down. The jolt of pleasure was immediate, and he could only gasp and squirm, lost in the sensations. He didn't even notice Megatron had stopped paying attention to his neck and was instead looking at him before the warlord spoke up once more.

“That's right, little rookie... Just like that.” His voice was nothing more than a sultry growl, but Smokescreen could feel it vibrate in his chest, and he panted, a part of him dimly wondering about the words and trying to think up an appropriate answer. He didn't get a chance to come up with anything before Megatron scissored his claws, and the only thing he could think to respond with was a high pitched groan, the sound catching in his throat. Primus, that felt almost painfully good, and he writhed, unconsciously trying to spread his legs a bit more. He could feel his own temperature rising, could faintly smell ozone in the air, and still, his pleasure only seemed to grow.

Then the warlord curled his fingers _just so_ , his other hand pinching a wire, and that was enough to send him crashing into overload. Sudden warnings popping up on his HUD, Smokescreen gave a shout, back arching as a violent electrical charge tore through him, his valve cycling down on the invading digits. He was briefly aware of the obscene wet sounds, of his own moans and the charges flying from his frame, but it was all washed away by the wave of pleasure washing through him. And through it all, Megatron only kept moving his hands, dragging it out and letting Smokescreen ride out the sensations until it almost became too much and his moans turned into whimpers.

Collapsing back against the berth, Smokescreen panted, desperately trying to aid his cooling vents, only now realizing he had dug his fingers into the surface beneath him hard enough to leave deep gouges. The servo left his side to capture his chin, lifting his head a bit and forcing him to meet Megatron's optics. There was a barely hidden hunger in those red depths, a feeling too intense to just be called lust. Smokescreen whined when the warlord carefully drew his fingers from him, even that slight touch sending a slight jolt through his hypersensitive valve.

“I'd say that's enough preparation.” At first, he had no idea what Megatron's rumbled words were supposed to mean, and he just blinked, fighting hard to gather his thoughts. Then the warlord sent him a predatory smirk, joining him on the medical berth, and Smokescreen felt his optics widen. He had always considered Megatron a large mech, but now, where he loomed over his own bound frame, he realized just how huge the other truly was. He didn't even need the power from his EM field, his presence in itself was intimidating enough, and Smokescreen shied back. The terror pooling in his tanks quickly brought him back down from his high, and he stared up at the warlord.

“W-what? Wait, you can't-!” He was shut up be a demanding kiss, Megatron hungrily pressing against him and dominating the action completely, leaving it to Smokescreen to simply gasp into his mouth. No. No no _no,_ he didn't want this. One thing was the humiliation of having been digitfragged into a mind blowing overload, but actually having the _Dark Lord_ take him? No. The mere notion terrified him, and he shook his helmet desperately. Shushing him, Megatron nibbled at his lower lips, his own mouth pulling into a cruel smile.

“Didn't we discuss this earlier? I can, and I will. And I promised you that you'd enjoy it, didn't I? Have I gone back on my word so far? Or are you trying to tell me that you faked that overload, the way you moaned so sweetly, or the way your frame screamed for more?” He was whispering against Smokescreen's lips, but yet, the Autobot heard every word clearly, and gave a shudder. Mostly because he knew Megatron was right. Feeling shame and anger fight for dominance as his face heated up in a blush, he shot the other a nasty look.

“You sick fragger.” He spat out the insult, which only made Megatron give a deep laugh, leaning in to press their frames together and letting Smokescreen feel the rumble in his chest. It was like he could sense the barely suppressed strength lurking just behind the others armor, and he gasped, giving a single squirm and pulling against his chains.

“Now now, name calling isn't going to get you anywhere, little rookie. And trust me, you'll like this.” Reaching his servo down between Smokecreen's legs, he briefly trailed the rim of his valve, smirking when it made his prisoner hiss, hips jerking forwards. Smokescreen did his best to send him a defiant look, but he couldn't keep his optics from wavering when the still slick digits prodded at his entrance. Of course, the warlord noticed, and his smile only grew as he leaned down, giving Smokescreen another deep and hungry kiss. Before Smokescreen knew what he was doing, he was responding once more, parting his lips for Megatron's glossa and closing his eyes. He barely noticed when Megatron withdrew his servo, too lost in the kiss.

It took the low hiss of a panel sliding back to snap him back to reality. Optics shooting open, he stiffened, looking up to see a victorious expression on Megatron's face plate. For a brief moment, terror seemed to flood him, slowing down time and narrowing his vision to that visage above him, that hungry and cruel look, and he felt his intake open slightly though no sound left him. Then the other pulled a bit away from him, and he made the mistake of looking down.

Megatron was _big._ His spike sprung from it's housing, fully pressurized as the warlord stroked it, spreading Smokescreen's own lubricant over it to prepare himself. Staring, Smokescreen's optics darted over the spike, taking in each ridge and change in texture, and _oh Primus were those barbs, that looked like barbs or spines, what, oh no no_ _ **no!**_

“W-wait, y-you can't... I-I don't w-want... S-stop!” He wasn't even aware of the desperate tone that had made it's way into his voice, shaking his helmet frantically but unable to look away. Megatron chuckled, changing hands so he could support his weight with his dirtied servo, and use to other to cup Smokescreen's chin, tilting his face upwards and forcing their optics to lock. Giving a smirk, scarred lip plates pulling back slightly to reveal his pointed denta, he mockingly shushed Smokescreen, giving his cheek a pat.

“Oh trust me, you _will_ want this... I'll make you beg for more and cry out my designation in overload. We haven't even begun yet, little rookie.” The promise sounded more like a growl than a whisper, but the heat and lust behind it were unmistakable, making Smokescreen shiver. He wasn't allowed the time to give a response, though, Megatron pressing closer and capturing his mouth. It wasn't as much a kiss as it was complete and utter domination, and Smokescreen could do nothing but gasp. The larger frame pressing against his kept him from even squirming in his restraints, Megatron allowing just enough weight to rest on the Autobot to let him feel it, but not enough to crush him.

Smokescreen barely noticed. Not with the way he could feel Megatron's spike against him. The warlord shifted his weight a bit, then ground his hips down, and Smokescreen whimpered into his mouth when he felt his spike slide across his outer folds. Giving a low rumble that could almost have been intended to be soothing, Megatron moved the servo cupping his face, running it down his side in a gentle caress. No touching beneath his armor, not yet – this was nothing more than slow and firm strokes, servo sometimes stopping it's movement to rub reassuringly over a plate in his chassis. When Smokescreen just gave another whine, Megatron broke the kiss, looking down at him.

“Relax... I can be gentle, and I don't hurt my partners unless I want to. Stop being so tense, and it'll be more enjoyable for both of us. Relax, little rookie.” Though it hadn't been a direct order, Megatron had one of those voices that simply demanded you to obey them. And Smokescreen really didn't want to get hurt. But he simply couldn't imagine how Megatron intended to put that... that _thing_ inside of him without tearing him apart. Shaking his helmet in silent denial, he gave a surprised squeak when Megatron moved the servo from his side to grip his hips, positioning him.

“N-no, wait! I- please, don't do this, please stop! _Stop!_ ” Looking at Megatron with huge optics, Smokescreen broke his promise to himself and begged, feeling nothing but terror. Megatron just shook his helmet once in response, growling something that sounded like he wanted Smokescreen to relax, and slowly began grinding his hips down. Smokescreen had been expecting pain – what he hadn't been prepared for was the sudden pleasure which flared through him. A moan escaped him before he could stop it, and he unconsciously tried moving his hips back towards Megatron. Then he blinked in surprise.

Megatron hadn't pushed into him. He was still moving against his outer folds, spreading the remaining lubricant there over himself. The reason he had lifted Smokescreen's hips, had changed their positions, hadn't been to take him. It had simply been to allow his spike to slide over his exterior node with each slow thrust he gave. Seeing the utter lack of understanding written across Smokescreen's face, Megatron gave a throaty chuckle.

“I told you to relax and enjoy it, didn't I? Is that something you think you can comply with now?” Smokescreen wasn't even aware he was nodding before Megatron gave a satisfied rumble. Then he completely forgot how to think when the warlord ground against him with a bit more strength, spike sliding over his exterior node and creating a delicious friction that had Smokescreen pressing back for more. This time, when Megatron lowered his helmet towards his neck, Smokescreen willingly exposed his throat, an action that earned him a possessive growl and another thrust against his exterior node. _Oh_. If that was what he was going to get for behaving, it might be worth considering doing so more often.

He gave a sharp gasp when Megatron licked his neck, glossa darting over the bite marks he had left earlier, as if to confirm that they were still there. Smokescreen moaned, writhing against the hand keeping his hips in place, attempting to buck back against Megatron as lubricant once more began to flow. It felt wonderful, it felt perfect, but it wasn't enough. He wanted...

“More?” Megatron asked in a low voice, apparently guessing his thoughts from the needy whimper leaving him. Smokescreen could only nod, closing his optics as his cheeks turned a deep blue. He... didn't _want_ this, but he _needed_ it, needed Megatron to put out the fire he had lighted in his frame. Apparently, his silence wasn't good enough for the warlord.

“Say it, little rookie. Just tell me what you want, and I'll grant it. I can be merciful.” He spoke slowly, voice calm and collected, not matching the heat in his frame or the charges dancing lazily between their frames. Smokescreen whimpered, then moaned when Megatron once more ground against him just right – only to stop halfway through the motion. Opening optics he hadn't even realized he had closed, Smokescreen sent him a dazed look, trying to move his hips to encourage the ex-gladiator to keep it up, but that only served to make Megatron tighten his grip on him. Realizing nothing was going to happen unless he spoke up, he took a klik to gather his thoughts enough to open his mouth.

“M-more...” His voice was filled with static, and he restarted his vocalizer. Megatron seemed amused with him, but he didn't move, didn't do _anything_ , until Smokescreen saw his own mistake. “I- _please!_ Please, I want more, it just feels _so good..._ Please, more, _please._ ” Feeling himself blush from the fact that he had already been reduced to begging for a frag like an addicted pleasurebot, and Megatron hadn't even pushed into him yet, Smokescreen looked away. He quickly forgot his shame when he felt the blunt tip of Megatron's spike push against his valve.

“All you had to do was ask.” Smokescreen didn't pay much attention to the words, and he had no hopes of gathering his thoughts enough to answer when Megatron slowly pressed into him. Intake falling open, he whimpered at the almost painful stretch, attempting to squirm to relieve the intense feeling. Megatron didn't let him, his servos clasping down on his hips and keeping them steady. Taking his time in order to let Smokescreen adjust to his size, he pushed into his prisoner, only stopping when he was fully sheathed. Smokescreen gave a low mewling sound, panting hard as his cooling fans worked to keep up with the rising heat in his frame. Megatron responded with a low growl of pleasure, pulling just a bit out before thrusting harshly back in, the sudden action contradicting his earlier carefulness and making Smokescreen give a yelp.

When Megatron experimentally gave another small roll of his hips, Smokescreen couldn't hold back a moan, straining against his chains. His first instinct was to wrap his arms around Megatron, to use the others frame to anchor himself down against the intense sensations washing over him like a tidal wave, but he could do nothing but dig his fingers into the already deep scratches he had made in the medical berth. The stretch was still aching, but in a good way, in a _wonderful_ way that had him wanting more, and he once again tried moving his hips to no avail.

What had looked like slight barbs along the underside of the entire length now scraped directly against his node clusters, and he gave a sharp moan, arching his back as the burn only fueled the heat in his frame. When Megatron drew out, it dragged the small spines along his inner walls, and Smokescreen gasped, the pleasure so intense it almost hurt. And when he thrust back in... The young Autobot thrashed against his restraints, arching his back and rolling his hips to meet Megatron's, moaning as his entire frame shivered. He could have cried out when Megatron stopped again, had he had enough control of his vocalizer to actually utter any words. Instead, he slipped back into more basic means of communication, a low bleep escaping his throat as a plea for more, sounding like a breathless version of the sounds Bee usually made.

“What was that, little rookie? Come on, find words. I'll steal them from you later. That's a promise.” Megatron chuckled darkly against his audio, making another drawn out shudder travel along his backstrut, apparently enjoying his inability to form coherent words. Smokescreen gave a low whimper at his promise, parting his lip plates to draw in large gulps of air to cool himself before being able to even open his optics. Megatron had pulled himeself back a bit, regarding him with a pleased little smirk and a deep fire burning behind his red optics. The sheer intensity of his expression, the greedy lust visible in the slight curve of those scarred lip plates was enough to numb Smokescreen again, and for a moment, he could only stare at the warlord. Seemingly amused, Megatron leaned down to take his lower lip briefly between his sharp denta before releasing it to whisper directly against Smokescreen's mouth.

“I said: _'what was that'_...?” Instead of answering, Smokescreen tilted his head a bit, pushing up to slant their intakes together in a needy kiss. Honestly, he was as surprised by his own action as Megatron appeared to be, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth or running his glossa over the other's lips, wordlessly encouraging Megatron to do the same. This earned him a hungry growl, rumbling in unspoken approval as Megatron took over, pressing his entire frame against the smaller one beneath him and dominating the kiss entirely. Smokescreen would have been embarrassed by just how much he loved that, had the simple action not completely stolen his ability to form a coherent string of thoughts.

Still, it didn't change the fact that the warlord had stopped moving, displaying a self control that Smokescreen could never hope to achieve. The fact that he had pressed closer hadn't changed anything but the fact that Smokescreen now had an even harder time squirming than before. Attempting to move anyways only earned him a bite to his lip, and he whimpered, the sound not from pain but from pure need.

Nibbling along the lip between his denta with a gentleness not matching neither his frame nor his reputation, Megatron gave a low chuckle. Keeping his weight on Smokescreen, he ever so slowly drew his hips back, the slight change in angles from him pressing closer enough to make Smokescreen see stars all over again, and he gave a helpless moan, sounding almost like a whimper.

“Come on, you know what I want. Beg me for it, I want to hear you, little rookie. Tell me what you want, and I'll grant it. Just beg for it first.” Megatron released his mouth in order to growl the words, making them seem like a mixture between a harsh order and a sweet promise. The way he could feel the other's voice rumble in the chest pressed against his own made Smokescreen give a whine, unconsciously licking over the lip plate Megatron had just been biting as he tried gathering himself enough to actually speak.

“P-please...” He had to pause and restart his vocalizer, static making his voice crackle to the point where it was nearly impossible to understand what he was trying to communicate, even the tone being drowned out by electrical currents.

“Please, _please_ , more! Please start moving again, please, it feels so good, I want more, just... _please!_ ” Heaving a deep vent through his open intake, he focused on Megatron, trying to convey his desperate need through his optics, since his words were still failing him. The warlord reacted with a pleased grin, the claws around his hips tightening their hold and drawing him just a bit closer while he roughly thrust back into him. Smokescreen's vocalizer shorted out for a brief moment, then came back online in time for him to yell out something he wasn't quite sure was even a word as much as just a vocal encouragement.

“A-ah! Primus, _yes_ , please, please, _please!_ More, so good, it's _so_ good, please more, don't stop again, please don't! Nnh, please, _more!_ ” He had no idea where he found the voice to plead like that, but he didn't seem to have any control over the words leaving his intake. Megatron gave a deep and throaty growl, picking up an almost merciless pace and leaning down to plant a demanding kiss against Smokescreen's audio before rasping directly into it.

“More... what? What do you want me to do, little rookie? Frag you senseless like a pleasurebot? Make you overload so hard you'll scream for me? Make your systems shut down from sensory congestion?” He had lowered his voice until it was barely above a rumble, following his words with a hard bite to the audio he had been speaking into. Smokescreen moaned and nodded, but already knew that the gesture alone wouldn't be enough, not if it wasn't accompanied by words.

“Y-yes... Please, _yes_ , frag me, just... _more!_ Take me, please let me overload, _please_ , it feels so good, let me reach overload, please take me! I-I want more, give me more, _please!_ ” he squirmed, fighting to free his arms from the restraints so he could cling to the ex-gladiator. Small charges built between their frames, resulting in heavy sparks dancing between them and making the air crackle over the scraping sound of metal against metal. Leaning his helmet to the side and groaning, baring his audio and the neck beneath it completely to Megatron, he was dully surprised when the warlord didn't take the opportunity presented to him. Instead, strong claws closed around his mandible, forcing his head up and pulling him into a hungry kiss which made his processor swim.

“Say my name, rookie... Not those ridiculous and childish nicknames you come up with. My true designation. Say it.” Megatron broke the kiss as abruptly as he had started it, the hand grabbing Smokescreen's chin forcing his helmet back so the other could close his teeth around his exposed throat. Smokescreen whimpered, then moaned, but any fear he might have felt had long since been drowned out by intense pleasure.

“Megatron, _please!_ Please frag me, please... more! M-Megatron, _please!_ ” He could feel the pleased smirk his words resulted in against his throat, and it sent a shiver down his backstrut. Then Megatron released his jaw, instead moving to once more grab his hips – and angling them. Smokescreen gave a wordless shout when Megatron pounded into him and hit his ceiling nodes _just right_ , optics offlining as his shout broke into static. Slowly, he became aware he was begging once more, but he honestly had no idea what he was saying, too focused on the intense pleasure washing over him.

He could feel his peak nearing quickly, and the way Megatron's field was wrapping around him just pushed him further. It almost felt _too_ good, and he gave a loud moan, words failing him completely so he couldn't even beg for more. When Megatron leaned down and harshly bit his neck, he screamed, throwing his helmet back as a violent overload tore through him. It was pure ecstasy, waves of pleasure washing over him and threatening to make his frame crash from the sheer intensity of it. It seemed to go on forever, Megatron keeping him in place against his thrashing and continuing his harsh pace, forcing another scream from him before the sound cut off into exhausted whimpers.

Entire frame going limp, he gave a low whine, even that small sound laced with static. The thrusts were beginning to become painful, his frame tired and his valve hypersensitive after two powerful overloads. Feeling himself cycle down one last time, dragging out the last of the lingering pleasure, a low moan escaped him, peppered with discomfort. Those ridges and barbs had felt wonderful before, but now, it was too much, and he gasped each time Megatron buried himself into his core.

“A-ah... hah... S-stop, too much.. It's too much...” Panting heavily, he mewled the low plea, aware of the multiple warnings which were quickly popping up on his HUD. Megatron didn't pay him any mind, instead tightening his claws around Smokescreen's hips and pulling him closer, giving a rough thrust. Smokescreen responded with a low shout, feeling both pain and pleasure mix and turn into something darker within him, making him squirm. Too much, it was too much, and a whimpering moan escaped him, his entire frame shivering helplessly.

When Megatron neared his own completion, Smokescreen could sense it, his thrusts picking up strength and becoming almost frantic. Hands tightening their hold until his claws dug into Smokescreen's hips, drawing energon, he roared as he overloaded, pace only faltering for a klik before continuing to ride it out. His EM field flared, completely engulfing Smokescreen, and the Autobot screamed once more, the feeling too much, too intense. Warnings kept popping up, his entire frame overheating, his processor stuttering. _Too much._

Slumping, his systems shut down, making him temporarily offline. After he had finished, Megatron sent his unconscious prisoner a look, taking him in. There were deep scratches on his hips, smaller ones littering his entire frame. His neck and shoulders were clearly marked by bite marks, and there was a regular mess between his legs. Giving a satisfied grin, Megatron slipped from the medical berth, giving a stretch before cleaning himself off. He didn't bother looking at the Autobot again as he picked up the relic and strolled out, sending the guards a brief nod.

“Clean him up, and see to his wounds. I... may have more questions for him later.” Giving a cruel smile, promising nothing good, he purposefully walked off, leaving the recharging Smokescreen behind him. For now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As said earlier, this was written for a friend of mine. Please bear with any typos or misspellings I might have made, English isn't my native language, and I don't have a beta reader yet.


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